


Like Distance, My Love Grows

by Lady_of_Inklings



Series: The Story of Six Pomegranate Seeds [2]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hades and Persephone Mythology Fusion, Because Viktor, Death, Fluff, Greek Mythology - Freeform, Hades and Persephone AU, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Mari is a good sister, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Mild Sexual Content, Sexual Content, Victor Nikiforov is Extra, tags to be added as story progresses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-31
Updated: 2019-02-02
Packaged: 2019-09-30 23:48:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17233448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_of_Inklings/pseuds/Lady_of_Inklings
Summary: Six months in the Underworld. Six months above. It is agonizing but they know that it is worth it.Afterall, distance makes the heart grows fonder.





	1. A Night Before The End

Not many knew of their story, not many bothered to understand but that was ancient history. Yuuri spent long enough in the underworld and long enough with Viktor to know that the dreaded god of death was a kind-hearted man that suffered from loneliness and had a smile that could blind the sun. Yuuri saw his heart, broken and frail, and he wondered how anyone could live like that. 

Staying was an easy choice. All it took were six pomegranate seeds he had stolen from the orchards and Viktors kind smile, and he sealed his fate with little to none complaints. 

Leaving however…….that was never easy. (He would grow used to it but not today. Yuuri wasn't sure if there would be a time that Yuuri could simply leave with a kiss and an easy goodbye.) The last night he had spent in the underworld always felt as if he were dying, but instead of his soul staying in the realm it belonged in, he was going topside. 

Viktor’s hold on his waist tight, his fingers digging into his skin as they made love on their last night. Yuuri held him close, kissing his face and promising to return when they came down from the heights of pleasure. 

“Six months will be over soon, my sweet king,” Yuuri said as they rested against each other, his hands rest on his bare back and his lips pressed into his shoulder. Viktor didn’t say anything but his sadness was a quiet and profound thing, Yuuri was all too familiar with it. “I’ll be back in your arms soon.”

“Must you go, my love?” 

They both know the answer to that question. 

Yuuri sighed, “I must.” 

He silently cursed the damn rule that Yakov had bestowed upon them. Often he joked that it was his version of a wedding gift but on days such as these, it felt like a cruel and twisted joke. 

Six months in the Underworld. Six months above. It is agonizing……... but they know that it is worth it. 

“Our hounds will miss you,” He said and then After a beat. “I’ll miss you.”

Viktor closes his eyes and leans into his caresses. "Sometimes I wonder if this will be the time that you refuse to return. I'm afraid that I'll be left in this realm, sitting on my throne waiting for you. I don't think that I could ever go back to the man I was before I met you. "

"Vitya....."

"I know," He said, kissing Yuuri's palm. "I know, my love. You would never do that to me but I can't help but fear."

“If I could, I would never leave but I must,” Yuuri reminded him gently. He pulled back, looking into his eyes. “My family cannot visit the Underworld and I cannot forget my duties, as much as it pains me to leave you behind, I must go. I have my duties and you have yours.” He smoothed down his hair, the silver stands slip through his fingers easily. “I’ll miss you, too. Phichit told me that distance makes the heart grow fonder.” 

“I love you, my love. I love you so much and you’ll be taken away from me again.” 

"I will return to you, I swear it.” Yuuri tilts his head up and lays down a gentle kiss to his cold lips, warming them as the passion grows between them. His lips kiss away his worries. “This is my last night in the Underworld, Viktor.” He whispers.

“What do you want, Yuuri?” Viktor opened his eyes, they burned dark as he looked at Yuuri. His fingers trailed up his exposed spine, making Yuuri shiver under his cold touch. “Name it, my love, and I’ll give you anything that your heart desires.” 

Yuuri deciphered the look in his eyes, returning it tenfold. He felt a level of excitement knowing that the God of Death worshipped him, it was a thrill like no other. 

He wanted more. 

He never wanted to forget this vision of Viktor, sweaty and glowing underneath him. 

“I want you,” He said, carefully and clearly. There was a time where Yuuri was afraid to say those words, now he could say them as much as he wanted. Yuuri tilts his head to the side, exposing his neck to Viktor. “When I stay in the realm of man, I want to remember you.”

“Your sister will rip out my entrails and wear them as a scarf,” Viktor said, dryly as his hands ran up and down his back pleasantly. His lips find their way to his neck, pressing the softest of kisses over their previous marks. “Are you sure?”

“Please, Vitya.” Yuuri didn’t make it a habit to beg but tonight he was willing to reconsider. He sat up in his husband's lap, the blankets falling off his bare body and pooling around his hips. The cold air hit his chest, doing little to quell the inferno that burned through him. “I need you, my love.”


	2. A Landscape of Absence and Stone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Viktor glances at the empty throne, his heart sitting like lead in his chest. 
> 
> All that distracted him from the absence of his husbands were the lines of souls that avoided his judgment. Especially one soul in particular.

Viktor waits in his realm, filled with silence, mourning as the souls of the dead surrounding him. 

Six months pass by in agony as he expects it to, the underworld once glowed liked the heavens but now it feels dull and grey like a well-used sword in battle. His mood is no better, even Yuri will not tempt him with his snide comments and those who seek his favour steer clear of him, cowering before his feet as he passes on his chariot. The souls are the only ones who are scared of his tumultuous state of mind. 

To him, they provide a distraction that is vital. 

The souls of those who had done unspeakable and awful things have felt his wrath to his greatest extent, their screams don’t improve his mood but they fill him with a sense of deep satisfaction as he judges the souls of both the sinners and the innocents. 

The souls of the underworld are less frequent now that it is spring, the ones that do filter through the gates are those who are frail and old---and if by chance fate is cruel enough, he sees a child walk through the gates with wide eyes full of confusion and haze. Those souls are the hardest because Viktor isn't sure how to explain to them that they are dead, they're children after all and children ask difficult questions. (Yuuri is yet to judge the soul of a child, Viktor wonders how he would handle. He presumes that his husband would handle it well, children have always been Yuuri's favourite despite what he says about them. Children flock to Yuuri like moths to a flame, overwhelming his poor husbands with their giggles and grabby hands.) 

Viktor knows that humans are petty creatures that are never content with what they have. Despite being created by the gods (who are just as petty and trite,) some are blasphemous to a point where they spill blood for gold or land or each other. He sees men in uniforms and women in stark white clothing, stains of blood barely visible but all the more disturbing. War never ends, whether it be spring or winter, Viktor knows that some things never change---god or human, it did not matter. Death always found a way to be victorious.

Life goes on, and that's _that._

“You.” Viktor points towards a soul, a man dressed in purple and black. His armour is covered in blood with arrows lodged deep in his back, misshapen wings made of feather and wood that drip crimson. Several of his advisors murmur behind him with both interest and disgust. “Who are you, soldier?”

Yuri steps forth, scowling at the soldier as he hands Viktor a bright glowing string that twines around his fingers like a serpent. 

“My name is Georgi,” He said, taking off his helmet to expose his face. Viktor’s eyes linger on his face where a scare crosses his cheekbone and disappears in his dark hair. 

“Ah, yes,” Viktor smiles coldly. “Are you the one they called Carabosse?”

“I am,” the dark-haired man said, his pale blue lips formed perfectly into a scowl. He took off his helmet and placed it at Viktors feet before kneeling. “It is not a name that I am proud of but it is how I am remembered.”

“It matters not. You have fought well, soldier.” Viktor said as the glowing thread of Carabosse’s life wrapped securely around his finger. It was frayed and rough and well worn but uncut. This was a strong soul, indeed. “You have slain many of your enemies and you have brought honour to your family. It is time for you to rest now.” 

He shakes his head. “I cannot.” 

Viktor wanted to roll his eyes but out of respect, he didn’t. It wasn’t the first time he had dealt with an unruly soldier and it wouldn’t be his last. He tempered his irritation, he was the Lord of the Underworld and King of its inhabitants---his duty was his. The souls had no one, only Viktor and the gods under him to guide and help them. If Viktor could help this man, he would do everything he could---even if it meant to just listen.....and have some pity.

“What else could there be to live for?” He asked, raising his eyebrow sharply. “You have accomplished everything. What more could there be for your stubbornness?” 

_“Love.”_

“Explain,” He said, resting his back against his chair with his head held high. “Tell me, mortal. How does love keep you from moving on?” 

Kerberos did not look up from where he kneeled at the base of Viktor's throne. His head stayed bowed as if he were silently praying. When he finally looked up, his dark blue eyes were full of longing and sadness. Those eyes had seen too much blood but they did not lose any of the gentlenesses of a young boy. Whatever warmth lingered there was barely extinguished. “I love a woman, she is as perfect as the moon and cruel as the sea but I love her with every ounce of my being.” 

“What’s her name?” Viktor asked, his voice soft and quiet as the wind across a still and gentle sea. 

He should’ve been more authoritative but here he was, listening to this mortal instead of helping him move on. Normally, Viktor would have a soul dragged to the Styx where he would mercifully cleanse their memory. It was considered mercy even if it was so cruelly and painfully done. Carabosse would be a long line of soldiers who would have their minds scrubbed of the horrid and terrors of war and life before moving onto the Eternal Fields. Now, Viktor felt only felt pity. These souls had no one to tell their plights to but Viktor. If Yuuri was by his side, he would’ve listened. His beloved wasn’t here now so Viktor would honour his husband by doing as he would.

He forced himself to listen now, regretting how much he had dismissed them then. 

(Would Yuuri be proud of him?)

“Anya,” Carabosse said, a smile gracing his face. “Her name is Anya and I promised her the rest of my life when I came back from the war. My lord, she is everything to me. She is the sun and the rain and the very air in my lungs. Please, my lord.” He lowers his head, willing to accept whatever Viktor would do but unwilling to give up this fight. “Do not take her away from me. Do you not have someone you love to the point where death does not matter?”

Viktor glances at the empty throne, his heart sitting like lead in his chest. The only thing that remained of Yuuri were wilted petals, the scent of lavender and honey lingered barely. He felt the familiar ache in his chest return. “I do.” He lets the words slip out of his mouth easily. Viktor lifts his hand and places it over his chest, his gold ring glinting in the cold and silver light of the Underworld. “More than you know, my good soldier. More than you know.”

(He ignored Yuri as he rolls his eyes and scoffs at Viktor's so-called dramatics.)

“My lord, do you mean—-“

“I do. I cannot break the rules for you, Carabosse.” He said with finality. “But my heart goes out to you…….which is why I will allow you this.” 

Viktor summons another thread, this one is red and longer---it is a wily and energetic thing that burns in his palm like a bolt of lightning. Carabosse’s thread of gold, light and short is drawn to it. He can feel the pull of the threads, strong as a riptide, holding them apart is difficult. (He wonders of his and Yuuri’s threads are just like this, if not stronger.)

“My lord……” Carabosse said in awe. 

“In your next life, may you be reunited with your love,” Viktor said, twisting the threads together. They glow and they crackle like lightning before fusing together. They are now entwined but relatively the same as before. It would take a stronger force than Viktor to tear it apart. “I hope your next life will be a kind and peaceful one, brave soldier. May you part with my blessing, Georgi Popovich.”

The brave soldier bows, forehead pressed to the cold floor as he openly weeps in front of his court. He thanks Viktor over and over again, dark blue eyes full of translucent tears that freeze as they touch the ground. Carabosse smiles as his soul leaves, turning to mist before his very eyes, peaceful and serene as finally, _finally_ moves on. Viktor stares down at the spot where he stood with mournful eyes and asks himself if Yuuri would’ve done the same. 

Whoever utters the words that 'death is the end' must’ve been extremely short-sighted. Viktor knows that there is no such thing as an ending, only an effortless continuation. 

He smiles, shaking his head and calls out for the next soul with a lightened heart. Like they say in life, it was time to move on.


	3. The First Leaf of Autumn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It has come time for the God of Spring to return to the Underworld.

Summer was coming to a close and Yuuri prepared to leave, joining his husband in the Underworld.

The spring had been successful, lush and full of life. Mari had noted that he looked happier than before his time in the Underworld. He supposed that it was true--- before he met Viktor he only saw spring as a repetitive and constant cycle that left him burnt out. It had gotten so bad that he had grown aggravated at the flowers that grew at his feet, the prayers from the mortals made him ashamed of himself, and the other gods snickered at him.

Spring had come back with a renewed vigour that had not been seen for decades, his love for Viktor was the root of that and Yuuri loved the life that he sowed into the earth. He no longer looked away from his creations, the confident glimmer in his eyes had returned and by the star did Yuuri feel like he was _unstoppable_. Yuuri was no longer a young Godling who was content with his failed ambitions. 

He was more than that now.

Mari stood behind him as he packed, a slight scowl on her face as she followed his movements like a hawk looking for her prey. Yuuri had grown up with his sister in the mortal realm, away from the petty politics of the gods and their reckless whims---safe. He knew that if she had the power, Yuuri would never see Viktor ever again.

“You’re angry, sister.” Yuuri intoned. Her silence continues on but it wasn’t an answer. “I don’t know why you continue to be. I’m happy with him, he loves me.”

“That’s not what I’m worried about,” she finally said.

“Oh?”

Yuuri carefully folded his tunics, placing them in the confines of his bag along with the rest of his things. It was a wedding gift from Phichit, which allowed him to fit anything into the bag without it expanding. He’s practically placed most of his luggage in it along with several things he wanted to share with Viktor. The clothes he wore were meant for a colder season, not from the pleasant remains of summer that would fade the moment he entered the underworld.

He pulled his cloak closer, the fur brushing against his exposed skin. It reminded him of their bed, the soft furs that were laid upon it that kept the frozen chill away from him as he slept and the brush of Viktor's lips against his bare shoulders.

“Aren't you happy for me?” He asked her. Yuuri felt the tension in the room double. “I know you’re upset but it was my choice. I love him.”

“He’s the Lord of the Underworld,” Mari said. He wasn’t sure what that had to do with anything. “You’re a man now, little brother, but there are things about him that you do not understand. Being with him will bring hardships upon you…..and I may not be able to protect you from him.”

Yuuri’s hands stilled. Her words echoed in his brain, bouncing around uselessly before he registered them.

Protect him?

Why?

He wasn’t a delicate flower, Mari knew that better than anyone. Yuuri was the God of Flower and King of the Underworld, he was far more powerful than he had ever dreamed of being but that wasn’t what Mari was concerned about.

His marriage to Viktor was young, barely a few seasons old. To others, it was seen as a reckless and hasty union (some may even have the audacity to call it illegitimate); and now that Yuuri has attained Viktors heart as well as the spot next to his throne, he was painted awash in white and crimson—-the perfect target. He was considered by many to be naive, sweet-tempered, and too empathetic for his own good but those who understood Yuuri best knew that wasn’t entirely true. Yuuri was keenly aware of what other gods thought of him, but their words were strangely true.

To be the new King of the Underworld was seen by many as an act of disrespect. As to why…...that was to be determined.

Many had vied for Viktors attentions, many had failed. To hold so much power over the Lord of the Underworld was considered to be a prize and it was given to a young Godling who resided over pretty flowers and the whims of mortals. Yuuri could see why the other gods envied him. But regardless of what they thought or _said_ of him, Yuuri understood one thing: Viktor had chosen him. He was the man who had stolen Viktor away and he had absolutely no regrets about it. He was Viktors and Viktor was his, both equal in each other’s eyes. Yuuri decided that the world could flood with bitter tears and ungrateful cries for all he cared, he had Viktors heart in the palm of his hand and he had no intention of letting the fragile thing fall.

“I know how to take care of myself, Mari,” He said, venom coating his words. “I’m not weak.”

“I never said you are,” She snapped. Mari sighed, and if she had anything more to say she chose not to share it. She squeezed her eyes shut before opening them. “I don’t have to tell you just how much power you possess,” Mari said in a more gentle tone. "The gods are dangerous creatures---far more treacherous than you think. Do not be fooled by their smiles and their words, it's a simple poison but effective. There's a reason I brought you to the mortal realm."

“I can handle the politics of the Underworld. I have allies.”

“I’m not just talking about the Underworld, Yuuri. You'll need more than just allies. You need to be careful.”

“I have Viktor by my side.”

"Yuuri, hear what I say. Geia knows just how powerful you are but you need to remember that Viktor has enemies and some of them aren't so happy about your marriage. I fear what they might do to you out of retribution." Yuuri frowns, looking down at his boot-clad feet. Geia knows how right his sister is. She is, after all, his own sister. Who else to worry about your future but your own kin? "You can't always rely on him to protect you, little brother. A rose needs thorns, not soft hands."

"I _know._ " Yuuri said, frustrated. He sat down on his bed with a huff, his fur cloak brushing across the colourful quilt. His fingers twisted the soft fabric. "I don't want to be a burden to him. This should be my problem, not his."

"You are not a burden to anyone, Yuuri."

"Sometimes I feel like I am," He murmurs softly. "I feel as if my existence is an anchor. I can't help but ask what is the point, what is my purpose?" His eyes flicker up to Mari. " I know what the gods say about me and what if they're right?"

Mari rolls her eyes in that sisterly way, she sits down next to him with her pipe still in her hand. Yuuri can feel the warmth of summer radiate from her skin, the smell of hemp and cloves circles around him gently. They don't touch, Yuuri barely breathes. He can feel her eyes on him, her gaze burns into his face like a hot iron poker.

"I wish I didn't have to let you go, Yuuri, but you're my brother and I can't keep you away from the affairs of the gods any longer." She places her hand on his shoulder. "You have Viktor, you have me and Phichit and Yuuko and so many others that love you. Have we ever made you feel like you have to prove yourself? Has Viktor ever made you feel like you were weak?"

“No, he hasn't,” Yuuri said, turning around to face his sister. “He has done nothing like that. Mari, he respects me and he treats me as his equal." 

"Then you have your answer." Her face remains impassive but he can see her eyes burning, anger brimming over like spilt coals. "The other gods are just petty and jealous. You have more than they ever have so don't let their words bring you down."

"I worry."

"I know you worry." She smiles ruefully, her fingers brushing his hair from his forehead. "If I could, I would divulge you of your worries."

"But Viktor---"

"Viktor is Lord of the Underworld, you are the God of Spring. He's powerful enough to rival Yakov but the only thing he has to lose is you."

"Isn't that enough for his enemies?”

He turns around, knowing the answer to that question. It’s written on his sister's face, set deep into her eyes and along the curve of her mouth. Mari sighs, digging out her smoking pipe. Whatever protests she had quickly fell silent. She only gave him the same type of look his mother used to give him when he was going to do something reckless or potentially dangerous.

"I love him," Yuuri blurted out. He didn't know why--- he just needed to say it. 

"I know. You would die for him if he asked."Mari stands up and opens the door, the warmth of the room rushing out like a tidal wave. "And that is what terrifies me, little brother."

It was time.

“You have my blessings, Yuuri, but if he makes you happy then there is little I can do,” she told him, her back still turned to him. “Viktor may be Lord of The Underworld but if I receive news that he has harmed you in any way, direct or otherwise, I will not hesitate to break down the doors of the Underworld and bury my axe into his chest. I am still the Goddess of the Harvest, after all, and I don’t appreciate people who try to hurt my little brother.”

There is no stopping her. Yuuri has never understood Mari’s hatred for the other gods, it is simply something he has come to accept. His marriage to Viktor had only added fuel to the flames of her ire, it would take aeons for it to simmer. (He counted this conversation as a step towards Mari accepting Viktor. It was a small little victory.)

“Six months,” Yuuri promises, wrapping his arms around his sister. Her shoulders are stiff but they loosen, her hands clutching to his robes like she is afraid to let go. Perhaps in time, these parting will get easier but for now, Yuuri allows himself to feel the sting of homesickness and melancholy that sink into his bones. “I’ll be back in six months, Mari. Wait for me then, sister of mine."

“I’ll miss you,” she said quietly. Her hands run through his hair, smoothing away any loose strands. Yuuri leans into her touch and closes his eyes. This will be another thing that he will add to his list of thing that he misses in the mortal realm. "I don't think that this will get easier."

“I’ll miss you too.”

"If he hurts you----"

"Viktor would never hurt me, Mari," Yuuri reminded her gently. He couldn't help but laugh, her words never carried the weight that they meant. "Be gentle with the mortals, sister."

Summer officially draws to a close when he finally lets go and crosses the threshold of their entrance, Yuuri looks back wistfully finding some comfort in his creations that encircle his home. It’s the first time in a long time that he has pride in his work, it leaves something heavy and wonderful in his chest.

Mari waves to him from the doorway of their home, a silent goodbye. Words are useless so they opt to keep their farewells short and sweet, it’s better that way. Yuuri finds that a clean break is good.

He doesn't look back because if he does, he'll just run back home.

 

 

The Goddess of the Harvest watches her brother walk into the thick forest of gold and umber, the rich green of summer vanishes with him and so the first leaf falls from a tree and flutters to the ground before her feet.

It has come time for the God of Spring to return to the Underworld.


	4. From this Fateful Meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A reunion between two souls.

The moment he laid foot in the Underworld, he found himself in the arms of his beloved.

Viktor stood before the boat of the Styx, his cloak wrapped around his imposing figure; the river reflecting onto his skin, making his hair shine brighter than falling stars. Yuuri finds him beautiful with his sharp, pointed crown and highlighted cheekbones, every bit a king. Yuuri admires him, soaking in his image before he takes the first few steps down to his husband. The image of the cold-hearted king quickly shatters when he spots Yuuri emerging through the gates, a bright heart-shaped smile of his face and eyes lit brightly.

Yuuri runs with a smile on his face and launches himself into his arms. For a brief moment he flies and then two arms wrap around him tightly. 

He sank into his embrace with a smile on his face like pebble sinking to the bottom of a cool, placid lake. Viktor smelled sweet to him, something soft and mellow that made his head swim and his heart glow in his chest. He was far too happy, smiling into his skin as he held onto his king tighter, joyous to be back and never wanting to leave his arms ever again---if he had his way, he would never leave. He knows that can't happen but these six months will keep his glass heart at ease. For every moment he spent in the mortal realm, he missed his husband and his kingdom; the eternal fields, his orchards, his hounds, and the palace looking over the Styx—-he missed them all. Each piece of the underworld completed Yuuri, making the broken parts of him ache less and the brightest parts of him shine. 

Viktor was the glue that held him together. He was his center, his very core. 

"My darling, how I have missed you so." Viktor croons, grazing the unruly strands from his face. Yuuri shivers when his finger brush against his forehead. He pressed kisses to his face, each one landing on his cheeks and forehead. 

"I'm home," Yuuri whispers, his voice catching on his own words but he forces himself through it. "I'm finally home, my Lord." 

"You're home, my little sun." 

He takes Viktors face in his hands and stands of his toes, kissing him fervently; pouring every ounce of love and desperation he could into the kiss. It's been months since his husband touched him, the marks on his body had faded in weeks, leaving only a memory of Viktor's lips and hands on his body. Yuuri feels the familiar ache between his legs when Viktor licks into his mouth and grips his hips.

"Take me home, Vitya," He requests him sweetly, chasing his lips as Viktor lifts him into his arms. " _Please._ "

Viktor swiftly reaches down and lifts Yuuri into his arms before boarding the boat. The row master bows to the both of them before setting down into the river, his crooked ore dipping into the waters of the Styx. Yuuri smiles, taking in the scent of earth and rock as home approaches closer and closer. The next person to greet him as the near the shore of the palace and its grounds is Yuri, a scowl forever embedded on his face and Makkachin sitting next to him. Both of them perked up as Yuuri stepped down from the boat. Yuri glanced down at the arms wrapped around his waist, his face pale and almost gaunt but whatever words he wanted to say, he kept it to himself. He bowed stiffly, his dark robes nearly touched the waters as he welcomed Yuuri home.

Home was more of a sea of familiar faces than a single place.

Otabek stood next to him, tall and imposing. He looked almost out of place in the underworld with his tanned skin and dark eyes but Yuuri takes in how relaxed he looks next to Yuri. It seemed his time in the Underworld was starting to agree with him....or rather someone. (Yuuri could remember the time where he was still a stranger in this realm, his presence alone made the young advisor storm off in a huff complaining about gods from the region above. That hadn't been too long ago and now he would be ever grateful for Yuri.)

"My Kings," Yuri said, no hint of aggression in his words. "I would say welcome back but I have a reputation to uphold and you two will be bust going at it like rabbits instead----."

Otabek clears his throat. "What my dear friend is _trying_ to say is that it is wonderful to see you back in the Underworld safe and sound. Yuri and I will be governing over your affairs until you are well rested, My Lieges." 

"Thank you, Otabek." Yuuri tries not to turn red at the implication of his words. "I appreciate you for doing this. I promise this will not be the case next time."

("Don't lie," Yuri sniffed. He rolled his eyes, shooing Makkachin towards him.

Fair enough. 

He supposed it shouldn't come as a surprise, everyone knew just how mad they were for each other. Viktor and he have never been very subtle (or _quiet_ ) when it came to their......reunions. Yuuri couldn't remember a time where Viktor wasn't touching him, whether it be to hold his hand or kissing his temple or holding Yuuri in his arms, Viktor couldn't stop touching Yuuri.)

"Ah, I see." Viktor only smiled wider, thanking Otabek and Yuri for 'doing their duties as advisors to the King.' 

Makkachin is just as ecstatic to see him again, she circles around Viktor and Yuuri with her tongue lolled out. If it hadn't been for Viktor preventing her from shifting into her true form, Makkachin would've knocked Yuuri over and slobbered him with 'kisses.' He dropped his bag and crouches, allowing the hell hound to give him kisses that didn't include teeth and the souls of the dead. (Another thing that Yuuri had missed, Makkachin was always so free with her affections.)

Viktor distracts Makkachin with a soft command and some treats, causing the three-headed hell hound to dart off towards the field of Elysium. Yuuri laughs, lifting himself up. He doesn't have a chance to picked up his belongings before Viktor sweeps him off his feet in the most literal sense and carries him off into their palace. 

"It's not like you to be jealous of your own hound, Vitya," Yuuri said, muffling his giggles into the crook of his long neck. He could feel his pulse jump at the sound of his voice. 

"Jealous?" Viktor chuckled. He carefully manoeuvred his way through the twisted hallways, careful to avoid servants and guards who quickly moved out of the way for their kings. Some giggles, others stared but none interrupted. "Hardly, my darling. Is it jealousy when you haven't seen your spouse in six months? I am only am only a man who is desperate for his husband's touch." He pouts at Yuuri, hoping for a response and for a moment he finds Viktor Nikiforov, Lord of the Underworld----his darling husband----to be _adorable._ "And I'm certain that I am not alone in that."

"I'm sure Makka will understand how ridiculous my husband is being." Yuuri grants him a single kiss to his cheek. "My beautiful, ridiculous, darling husband."

"Ridiculous?" Viktor mockingly gasps. "You adore me." 

"I do. I do very, very much." He purred, his lips brushing across hollow of his throat seductively. "You don't have to carry me, my lord."

"Indulge me, my sweet. I never get a chance to do this."

"I could never refuse," Yuuri sighs. "I would give you anything, especially when you look at me like that."

"That's easy then," Viktor said, stopping in front of their door. "Because all I ever wanted was you."

 

 

Viktor undresses them quickly when they reach their rooms, shedding their clothes as they made their way to their bed. Yuuri fell back against the soft throws of the bed, Viktor above him and their hands intertwined.

Yuuri has no intention of holding back. As much as he adorned the sweet and gentle touches that Viktor bestows upon him, he craves more upon his sun touched skin. Six months without Viktor's touch had left him starved, and tonight he intended to slake his hunger. It was easy to reacquaint himself with his husband's body after so long. Viktor wasted no time, mouthing at his neck, leaving marks as he pins him down on the soft furs of their bed. Yuuri smiled and inclines his head up, accepting the increasingly demanding kisses his husbands gives him.

"I missed you," Yuuri panted, tilting his head back as Viktor kissed his throat. "I wish.........Oh, Vitya. I wish I could have taken you with me."

Viktor kisses him deeply and settles between his legs, working Yuuri open with his deft fingers slicked with oil. He was unravelling, falling apart at the seams as Viktor cradled his hips and mouthed at his skin. The marks alone throbbed softly, reminding Yuuri of just how good Viktor was at claiming him. He lets out an obscene sound when Viktor breaches him, a heavenly feeling soon followed by a familiar tightness and warmth. He surrenders to it, waves upon waves of pleasure raced up and down his spine. It was bliss. 

They smelled of musk, oil, and sweat----it was a pleasant scent, one that was familiar and strangely comforting. 

He looked up at Viktor with half-lidded eyes, gasping softly as his husband makes love to him after so long. Geia, Viktor was beautiful like this; the way he looked at Yuuri was enough to send him over the edge that he had balanced himself on for the past six months.

"I mean what I say, Viktor." 

"I know, my love. I know." 

Yuuri was like the over-ripened fruits of the Underworlds orchard, sweet and ready to burst at the slightest pressure. Underneath Viktors touch he spilt, his fingers grasping the obsidian coloured sheets as heat flooded through his senses; back arched like the finest bow and the sweetest notes tumbling from his reddened lips. Viktor's name fell from his lips as he gave himself over to the pleasure between his thighs willingly. Every moment that he spent away from the Underworld, from Viktor, he wanted to remember----remember his startling blue eyes and his lovely, enchanting voice, and the ghost of his hands on his body when he held him. 

The marks upon his body would fade, and so would the scent of Viktor but Yuuri would never forget his husband. 

He wouldn't allow himself to forget his husband no matter how others willed it. Yuuri loved him, he loved him so much that it felt as if he had split his soul in two. One half had always belonged to Viktor but on nights like these where they were connected so intimately, he finally felt whole. None would understand this better than them. Viktor completed Yuuri's jagged edges and hidden faults.

As the warmth cools between them, Yuuri reaches up to caress his face. Viktor closes his eyes and turns his face, his cold lips pressed firmly against his palm and then to the golden ring on his finger. In moments like this, Yuuri aimed to remember every single detail. Time was so sacred to them, each moment was to be treasured----even if it felt so finite, they were guaranteed eternity ( _To thee I pledge my life, my heart, and my soul._ Yuuri vaguely remembered his wedding vows. He had not been as ecstatic as Viktor when it came to his vows but his words were simple and sweet. Viktor had cried when Yuuri uttered those word to him.)

"My love, my king," Viktor said, cradling him in his arms. Yuuri felt boneless as the elder man ran his fingers through his hair, basking in his affections as a cat basks in the sun. His limbs were heavy as he encircled the elder god's neck, laying atop of him. They were chest ot chest, hearts beating loudly in their chests and through their ribs. "My beautiful husband. I have missed you so."

Yuuri closes his eyes, hiding a smile into the crook of his neck. "My sweet king, it is good to be home."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *posts this chapter and crawls back underneath my rock*  
> >//<


	5. Shared Thoughts And Shared Burdens

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pillowtalk and what comes after.

"Six months above and six months here. I don't know how I can bear it," He said once they have regained their bearings. Yuuri tilted his head, catching his breath. Six months of loneliness and want spilt from his heart and poured through his eyes. His heart hammered against his chest, robbing him of breath. "At times I wonder if this is my fault. 

"Oh, Yuuri........" He felt Viktor shift underneath him. "My darling, perish the thought. I will never blame you for wanting to see your family." Yuuri lifts his head, meeting his husband's eyes. "You are of two worlds now and it's partially my fault. If anyone should bear this burden, it should be me."

"None of that, Vitya. It was my choice when I swallowed those pomegranate seeds," Yuuri reminded him sharply. "I knew what I wanted and I don't regret it."

"Of course, my love. You misunderstand my words," Viktor said gently. "There are laws so deep and so ancient that even I dare not break them. Yakov is from an era where gods were chained like animals and killed mercilessly. I suppose in his own way, he cares."

"That should no reason to separate us," Yuuri muttered petulantly. He his head down on Viktor's shoulder, softly inhaling his scent. It calms him, grounding him from his buzzing thoughts.

Viktor chuckled, kissing the crown of his head, hoping to appease him. It worked as Yuuri relaxed underneath him. "And yet here we are, against all odds we're together. Although I don't agree with the deal Yakov gave us, I do understand it."

"And why is that, husband of mine?" Yuuri asked, a little too bitterly.

" _Becuase_ , my little sun, as I said on the night before you left, distance makes the heart grow fonder."

Oh.

He felt himself go still as he arrived at a startling realization. How could he have been so blind? "Dear Geia, I've been a fool."

From a certain standpoint, Yuuri could understand. Yakov's own marriage to Lillia was as tortured and complicated as they came, an open secret amongst the gods. Yuuri only knew Lillia through Mari, when the elder goddess visited him for the spring. It was her favourite time, being the Goddess of Marriage and Motherhood, the time of spring was perfect. He remembered her as strong and witty, with steady piercing green eyes and dark flowing hair. Lillia was beautiful in the way that stained glass was, sharp and confined in stark lines.

He knew nothing of Yakov, not even what he looked like until he had turned sixteen and his sister had finally brought Yuuri along with her to a banquet. He was a child then, meek and quiet, innocent to the way of the gods and their politics; he knew that Yakov was the one Lillia would always complain about Yuuri assumed he would be a brute but he was proven wrong. The first time he had encountered Yakov, the man had a stern, rough face that had seen too much. Yakov's worlds boomed like thunder but when Lillia shot him a dark look, he rolled his shoulders back stiffly and softened his voice as best he could.

It was peculiar, how they seemed to agree on certain things while they waged wars over others. Their love was a violent spark but there was a tentative peace and it revolved around Yuuri. He was, in one way or another, their favourite.

They were as protective of him as Mari was. It made sense as to why Lillia pushed Yuuri towards Viktor and why Yakov supported their union when nobody else would.

Yuuri wasn't as alone as he thought, after all.

Yakov had given them a gift, painful as it was, he now understood. Yuuri could not spend the rest of his life in the Underworld, he needed the sun like a flower needed water. He was a being of life and death, bound to a cycle he had willingly chosen when he swallowed those pomegranate seeds. Breaking that cycle had consequences and he had little choice but to abide, but that didn't mean that they could bend the rules just a little bit. Or just enough to keep them happy.

"He could've just gotten us another chariot," Yuuri said. It had taken him a while to truly understand but he wasn't going to admit that out loud, he still had his pride to consider. 

Viktor laughed and Yuuri felt the remnants of his anger ebb away. It truly was a magical sound that he loved. (Should he add it to the list of things that he missed too?)

"It hurts me to see you go, Yuuri. Each goodbye always leaves me feeling hollow and despondent, there are times where I want to wrap my arms around you and forbid you from leaving me behind but......I cannot because you deserve to be free. You are from the realm above as I am from the realm below." Viktor tightened his arms around him as words spilt from his mouth. "Yakov and Lillia have their differences, and I have witnessed many of their spats but in the end, the distance what keeps them together. " 

"I love you, Viktor. Distance or not," Yuuri said, finding nothing but the truth in his words. "Nothing could make me stop loving you. Nothing."

"I know, Yuuri. My love for you is an endless well." Viktor smiled, kissing the tip of his nose. "I think that the old man was testing us."

"I'm sure Lillia wouldn't like us implicating that but you're right I suppose. She is the Goddess of Marriage and Womanhood, it makes sense." Yuuri laughs and nuzzles his neck, fingers tracing idle patterns on his chest. He closes his eyes and listens to the sound of Viktor's heart that beats steadily for him. "Did we pass that test, my love? Have we proven ourselves worthy or not?"

"I think we have." He said. "And we're stronger for it, aren't we?"

"We are, my lord. We are."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry. This isn't the end of this story. There is a whole lot more that I have planned for these two.


End file.
